Hunters, Jumpers and Jocks
by Heartlandforever
Summary: SEQUEL to One Step Forward, Two Steps Back. Amy feels the pressure of competing on the A Circuit, and finds refuge in her project horse Dillon, her work and a new man? Will the A Circuit make or break Amy Fleming?
1. Chapter 1

The wind hits my face as we fly over the bright colored oxer. My body follows Dillon's downward motion as we land on the other side. Dillon's ears flicker back at me, waiting for me to point him at the next jump. I turn him tight to the left and give him a hard squeeze with my spurs as I urge him to the triple combination. "Three, two, one…" up and over the single then one stride to the oxer. "Easy bud," I half halt and sit back. It's a short two strides to the triple bar at the end of the combination. We soar over the triple bar and gallop past the timer. I bring Dillon back to a trot and give him a big pat. I look over to see the people from Eric's barn cheering at the fence. "A beautiful round from Amy Fleming and Dillon with no faults and a time of 42.6" I look up at the big time board. I never thought I'd see my name lit up in big orange lights in front of all these people.

"That was great! You took a bit of a long spot to the third jump with kinda screwed you up a bit for the bending line, but you recovered great." I look down at the petit blond as the opens the ingate for me. "Thanks Laurel! Ya, there were a few mess ups, but I think Dillie did great for it being his first time in the meter three's. Huh boy?" I say, giving the big bay gelding another pat. "Hey so I have to go find Emma and make sure she's warming up Jet for their hunter class, but I'll catch up with you later, 'kay?"

"Sure sounds good. Thanks!" I reply as Laurel hurries off to the hunter ring. Laurel is one of the many trainers that works for Eric. She's been doing most of my training with Dillon, and in return I help her out with some of the "difficult and unmanageable" horses. Its surprises me how so many of the top riders can jump 6 feet no problem, but don't know how to establish a long lasting relationship based off of trust with their horse. I walk back to the barn full of temporary stalls that Eric's barn rents for the show week and hop off. After I finish cooling off Dillon, I poultice and wrap his legs before giving him a carrot and putting him in his stall to rest. I walk down the aisle to the crowded tack room and put all of his tack away before focusing on tidying myself up. I take off my helmet and throw my sweaty hairnet in my tack trunk. As I reach into the trunk to get my baseball cap I look at the pictures taped on the inside of the lid. Grandpa Jack, Dad, Lou, Peter, Mallory, Katie, and finally, Ty. I run my hand along the tattered picture and feel a wave of melancholy rush over me. Part of me wishes I was back home, "healing horses and healing hearts". I shake the feeling away, grab my hat, and walk back out into the blazing hot sun.

* * *

I walk over to the hunter rings where Laurel is helping Emma warm up her skinny, black warmblood Jet. "Good, now pop over the oxer. Nice, now go across the diagonal and change leads. Easy, steady, don't rush. Good and walk."

"You think I'm ready?" Emma says, giving jet a pat.

"Ya, don't worry about today. This is just a warm up class for the Derby tomorrow. Don't stress about this one. I gotta run, but I'll try to come back in time to catch your class," Laurel yells as the rushes off to meet up with another client. I don't know how she keeps track of everything; she always seems to be rushing everywhere. I turn to Emma as she walks over to the gate. "You guys look great!" I exclaim as I stroke Jet's face. "Thanks, he's being a good boy today," Emma replies. She's only about 16, and I give her a lot of credit competing in the big hunter classed against some of the top riders. She may have one of the nicest horses and have a loaded family, but you can't buy a competitive nature. I stick around to watch a few of her classes then wander back into the barn to visit Dillon. Dillon pokes his head out of his stall and knickers when he sees me coming. "Hey handsome." I say.

"Thanks!" and voice from behind me exclaims. I roll my eyes.

"I was talking to the horse, you know," I say as I turn around. Kyle's familiar smug face smirks back at me. He runs his hand through his long strawberry-blonde hair that always looks perfectly styled. He saunters over to me and leans against Dillon's stall before unbuttoning his show shirt a few too many holes. That's Kyle for you; the biggest flirt on the A circuit. Most girls fall to there knees and drool over him if he even so much as looks at them, but his charisma has never seemed to work on me. Sure, I can't deny that he's hot, but he's not my type. Plus I already have the man of my dreams…

* * *

"I heard you and Dillon did great today," Kyle says in between mouthfuls of food. I look up from my small salad and nod, "Ya, Dillon did great. Hopefully we'll be all set for the Grand Prix next week at the Maple Brook Classic." My stomach flutters at the thought of me entering my first Grand Prix. I know Dillon and I are capable of jumping 5 feet walls and 6 feet spreads, but it's the pressure that gets me; all the hard work I've put into training, and all of the people at Eric's barn who have such high hopes for me…

"Want some fries?" Kyle pulls me out of my daze, and I look up.

"No thanks, still working on my salad." Kyle looks down at my small Cesaer Salad.

"Ya, that's about enough food for a bird."

"Well your Meat Lover's Platter was about enough food for an army," I say pointing to his almost empty plate. He grins back at me and leans back in his chair, running his hands through his hair.

"What can I say? A man's gotta eat," he says with a wink. I roll my eyes and take a few more bites of my salad, then Kyle calls the waitress over for the check. I reach for my wallet, but before I can even pull it out Kyle stops me, "Hey what do you think your doing? What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady pay?" I sigh and say thanks. Whatever, its not like moneys much of an issue for Kyle, seeing as his family is one of the richest families is the country. We walk out of the small café, and hop into Kyle's black Porsche convertible.

* * *

I plop onto the hard hotel bed, and dry my long blonde hair with a towel before curling up under the covers. I turn to the nightstand and set my alarm to 4:00am. Even though I've been waking up at 4a.m. every morning for more than a month, it doesn't get any easier. But knowing there's a stable full of horses that need to be worked with.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the show week flies by and before I know it, we're packing up the barn and heading out of Fairview Show Grounds, and off to Eric's main stables. After 3 hours of bumpy roads and long stretches of highway, Laurel and I finally reach Eric's barn pulling Laurel's huge four horse head to head trailer. I slowly lift my head up from my sweatshirt make-shift pillow leaning against the passenger seat window. I yawn and blink my eyes a few times and turn on my phone. 11:34pm. Great, I can't wait to wake up at 5a.m. tomorrow. We pull into the long gravel drive way and park in front of Eric's humungous barn. His property is massive: 3 large barns,50 acres of turn out, 2 indoors, 3 outdoors and large house that serves as the living quarters for the stable hands, also where I live. Laurel parks the big truck in front of the big main door. The horses in the trailer start whinnying to the other horses in the barn. The two other trailers we took to the show have already arrived, and I make out Eric's silhouette in the darkness open the big sliding doors to the main barn. After the grooms and I finish wrapping the horses and putting them away, I head straight for the house. I open the door to my little apartment-like room and collapse onto my bed.

* * *

The sun hits my face like a bucket of ice water. I groan put a pillow over my face to avoid the blinding beams. Suddenly my stomach drops and I turn to look at the clock: 8:30am. "Shit!" I yell out loud. "Well, good thing I fell asleep in my clothes". I throw on a different shirt to avoid weird looks and race down to the barn without glancing in the mirror. I run into the barn where Laurel is standing in her Pikeur breeches and bright Joules polo. She turns around when she hears my panting after my quarter mile dash. "I am SO sorry. I completely over slept, and I didn't even eat breakfast, or even change, I swear I came down as fast as I..."  
Laurel puts up her hand to stop my rambling, "Amy, its fine. Its good, actually. You deserved, no you _needed_ a morning to sleep in."  
"Are you sure, because I can.."  
"No, really its fine. Go eat something and come down in about an hour."  
"Thanks," I gasp. "I really appreciate it." As I walk out of the barn towards the house Laurel yells, "And Amy, you might want to, ya know, run a brush through your hair or something." I turn around and roll my eyes at the sarcastic grin plastered on her face.


	3. Chapter 3

"Good boy Twister," I say to the small chestnut gelding as I give him a pat and throw his halter on the hook next to his stall door. He wanders over to his large mound of hay and munches away happily. I grab the lungeline, surcingle, bridle and side reins I just used with him and carry it all back to the tack room. The main barn's tack room is huge, and always in pristine shape; with matching brass bridle and saddle racks, and not a speck of dirt in sight. I walk over to the hooks where all of the training equipment is and toss everything on their racks. I brush my hands off on my jeans and wipe the sweat off my forehead, then walk back out into the barn aisle. I grab a broom from the feed room and start sweeping the mats. _Okay, so I exercised Rio, hand walked Sadie, lunged Twister….so I just have to ride Bandit and Dillon…_The sound of a speeding car on gravel interrupts my thoughts. I look up and see Kyle's Porsche pull into the driveway. He doesn't open the door, but instead just hops out of the top of the car effortlessly. He always looks so put together and smooth, like a Grand Prix horse soaring over an oxer…

"Hey good lookin', what's cookin'?" Kyle exclaims as he runs his hand through his perfect hair. "Hey," I reply, "You lessoning today?" I ask as I finish sweeping.

"Yes Ma'am," Kyle says with a wink. I put the broom away and walk with him to the tack room. "I can help you tack up, I finished most of my work today."

"Sure, thanks. Wanna take this?" Kyle says as he passes me his CWD and matching girth. I carry his stuff to the cross ties as Kyle walks over to the stall where his horse, Moose, is munching away at his hay. "Hey bud, ready to have some fun?" Kyle puts Moose's fancy leather halter over his head and walks him out of his stall. Moose is, well, he's a moose. He's 18 hands of pure muscle, and his beautiful seal bay coat glistens in the sun. He swings his massive head over to me and sniffs my hand, looking for treats.

"Hey big boy," I say stroking his face. Kyle and I finish tacking him pretty quick then we walk out to the big jumping ring where Eric is finishing up with one of his other clients. He waves at Kyle, "Hey come on in!" he yells. I open the gate and let Kyle in. He walks around for a while until the other client, and older lady on a big boned chestnut, finishes. Eric works with Moose and Kyle on the flat for a little while, and then he raises the low jumps from the other lesson. I lean against the fence and watch as Kyle and Moose fly over the 3'6 course with ease; they look perfect, like a totally synchronized team.

"Hey Amy, wanna help me raise a few of these jumps?" Eric calls out to me. I nod and slide through the fence rails into the ring. Eric and I raise each fence about 3 holes to 4ft. Moose soars through the course, and pops over the large fences as if they're tiny cross rails. A huge grin flashes across Kyles face as Moose lets out a big buck after the course.

"Woooo hoooo!" Kyle yells. Eric and I chuckle, and Kyle brings Moose back to a walk.

"That was perfect!" Eric says, as he pats Moose's big shoulder. Kyle walks Moose around the large rings to let him catch his breath as Eric moves around the jumps and sets up a gymnastic.

"Okay Kyle, bring Moose through this gymnastic. It's a bounce, to a one stride, to a bounce then two strides to a large triple bar. Make sure you keep him steady in between each fence." Kyle grins and looks unimpressed with the gymnastic, "Come on Eric, that's a piece of cake."

"The triple bar the end is easily 5 feet high, and 6 feet wide. You really need to focus."

Kyle nods and pushes Moose into a smooth canter. He points him to the line and jumps the first bounce perfectly. _Three, two, one, up, up, one, up…_ Moose jumps into the one stride awkwardly, knocking Kyle off balance and onto Moose's neck. Kyle throws himself back into the saddle and accidently spurs Moose while doing so. Moose jerks forward and barely makes it over the bounce. Kyle desperately tries to pull Moose back for the two strides to the triple bar. "Easy! Steady!" Eric calls frantically. Moose tosses his head in aggravation and over collects his stride. Kyle tries to squeeze in a third stride, but instead Moose launches himself 15 feet away from the jump's base. Kyle gets thrusted out of the saddle as Moose's legs flail in the air trying to make it over the huge jump. Everything seems to happen in slow motion. Moose crashes through the huge oxer. Poles fly everywhere and Kyle gets rocketed sideways and onto the ring dirt. Moose lands hard on his front legs and tumbles to the ground. Eric and I sprint to Kyle and Moose. Kyle slowly starts to get up. "Are you hurt!? Don't get up!" Eric yells to Kyle.

"I'm fine, nothing seems to be broken." I run over to where Moose is lying down in a pile of broken poles. Look down and red stained dirt surrounding his front legs. My heart drops and I turn to Eric who's slowly lifting Kyle up from the ground.

"Eric. The vet. We…," I can't breath, I can't think. I can't talk. "Call the vet."

* * *

"Both of you are extremely lucky," the vet says as she crouches down next to Moose's front legs. "He sliced up his front legs pretty bad, but he didn't seem to tear anything. I stitched up the large abrasions, and he'll definitely be out of work for at least 3 weeks; however, other than that, I think he'll be fine!"

"Thank God.." Kyle mutters under his breath. His normally cheery, carefree face is grave with concern. He looks down at his scuffed boots, wiping little tears that are forming under his eyes. I swiftly reach over and give his hand a squeeze. He looks down at me and manages a meek smile.

"Thank you Dr. Wilfred," Eric says shaking the vet's hand.

"No problem, I'll just finish dressing his wounds, and he can go back in his stall. I suggest stall rest for about a week or so, then hand walking for a few weeks after that. Give me a call in a few days to see how he's doing." After the vet finishes wrapping Moose up, Kyle and I bring him into his stall. After Eric quadruple checks that Kyle is okay, he leaves to go home. He offers to stay, but Kyle insists that he's fine. After Eric leaves, Kyle turns to me, "Hey, I'm gonna stay with him tonight. You should go though. It's almost 9 o'oclock, and you probably want to eat and get a good night sleep."

"Hey," I say picking up Kyle's hands, "I'm not going any where."

* * *

We drag a couple hay bales into Moose's stall and order take out for dinner.

"Mmm, this is so good. How're your spring rolls?"

"Delicious," I say between mouthfuls. I pop the last bit in my mouth and brush my hands off. Kyle chucks the Chinese food boxes out then comes back to the stall. Kyle walks over to Moose and gives him a pepper mint, then starts to laugh.

"What?" I say walking up next to him. Kyle turns to look at me.

"You should've seen your face when I fell. You looked so scared, I thought you were gonna pass out."

"It's not funny!" I exclaim, playfully punching his arm.

"Hey!" he yells. He tries to grab me, and I push him to the ground. We're both laughing and wrestling in the shavings, then Kyle picks me up and pushes me against the wall; his hands pining my arms back. Suddenly I'm paralyzed. His ice blue eyes pierce into me, and for a moment, I swear he's looking through my soul. Neither of us are laughing anymore, and he slowly slides his hands down from my arms and around my waist. He leans closer to me; his lips right next to mine. Then he kisses me; softly at first, then more passionately. His hands slide under my shirt and grip my chest. My head spins and I feel out of control; I can't move and my breath is short. Kyle starts kissing down my neck his hands drop down to my pants. He slips one of his hands under my jeans, and clasps my waist with the other. Suddenly my mind comes back to reality. I push Kyle off of me, and wipe my mouth. He slams into Moose's water bucket, splashing water everywhere.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" I scream. Kyle rubs his hand over his lips angrily. He walks over to where I'm hunkering against the wall. He leans in close to me and punches the wall next to my head, "Don't even _try_ to pretend that you're innocent here." His voice shakes and he turns away angrily.

"You _know_ I have a boyfriend! Maybe you should ha.."

"Maybe _you_ should have stopped me before I was already in you pants!" He yells, turning back to face me. I slap him so hard in the face that my hand goes numb. "You. You are such a jerk!" It's silent for a moment; even Moose stops munching his hay.

"I think you need to leave," Kyle slowly and calmly says rubbing his cheek that's now bright red. "I would like to be alone with my horse." My eyes flutter, I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. "Whatever Kyle. Have your way. You always do, you spoiled brat!" I sputter. Then I turn away and walk out of Moose's stall, slamming the door behind me.


	4. Chapter 4

That night, all I can think about is Ty. _What the hell were you thinking Amy? Why do you always have to do this to yourself; whenever things are going great, you have to go and screw everything up_. Truth is, I wasn't thinking. I wasn't thinking at all... I was caught off guard when Kyle came onto me, but that's no excuse. I toss and turn under the covers and close my eyes as hard as I can; forcing little tears of guilt from slipping out. I wish I could call Ty, just to hear his voice; just to hear him say that everything will be okay. But I can't, because he's still on his 3 week trip to Africa, studying and helping with a vet friend of Scott's. It's an amazing experience, but I'm not to keen on the "no calling" thing. After 4 hours of tossing and turning I decide its no use. I turn to look at the clock. 3:46am. I throw myself out of bed and decide I might as well get an early start instead of rattling emotions around in my brain.

It's still dark out when I go down to the barn. Most of the horses are still asleep, and they lift their drowsy heads and nicker when they hear me walk in. Unlike Heartland, there's never much to organize since the barn's always in such perfect shape. But it's still a barn; which means there's always something to do. I clean tack for about an hour until all of the saddles and bridles are sparkly clean. Then I wander back put into the aisle and give the horses their morning feed a little early, then turn them out. "Miss Fleming, you didn't need to do that." I turn around to see Joey, one of the stablehands, walking down the aisle. "Oh, no worries. I needed something to do."  
"You did morning feed, and you turned them out. You're gonna take me outta my job!"  
"Don't worry, I left you the glamorous job of mucking out," I joke, tossing him a pitchfork. Joe laughs then goes into the feed room to grab a wheelbarrow. I walk back to the tack room and check the lesson board. I scroll through the chart and find my name: _**Amy- 8:00 with Laurel**_ I look down at my watch. I still have about an hour and a half before I should tack up...I decide to spend my time working with Starbuck, a big dark bay gelding who I've been working with for a few days. Eric bought him in hopes that he could use him in his lesson program. However his fear of the trailer makes it merely impossible to take him to any shows. I bring him In from his pasture and put him on the cross ties. I brush him and pamper him a little before bringing him out to the yard to work with him. I work with him in the round pen, making sure he's listening to me. I jog around the pen and look back to see Starbuck trotting behind me and tossing his head around. I laugh and he nudges my back and snorts as I bring him back to a walk. I clip his leadrope back onto his halter and bring him back into the yard. I slowly lead him up to the trailer parked in front of the barn. Starbuck perks his ears up at the sight of it, and starts to prance sideways anxiously. "Easy boy," I tell him softly, stroking his tense neck. I lead him up to the trailer and open all of the doors in window so it doesn't look so dark. Then I slowly encourage him up the ramp. He puts one hoof on, then pauses and sniffs the ramps. He slowly puts his other hoof on and takes a few steps. "Good boy!" I exclaim, giving him a treat from my pocket. He seems to wary to go any further, so I decide to call it a day; happy with how much progress he's made. When I first started with him, he wouldn't even go within 50 feet of a trailer. I give Starbuck a pat and lead him back to the barn


End file.
